


The Fix Is In

by My_Alter_Ego



Series: White Collar Discussions [18]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Dating Convicts, F/M, Moral Objections, Sublimated Desires, wet dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:20:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22210207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Alter_Ego/pseuds/My_Alter_Ego
Summary: When Elizabeth Burke tries to fix Neal up with some female companionship, her husband is far from pleased. Peter and El suddenly find themselves on different pages in that little black book. I think I’m going to put this story somewhere during Season 5.( “The fix is in” is a colloquial expression meaning that the outcome of something is being controlled or affected in a less than honest way.)
Relationships: Elizabeth Burke & Neal Caffrey, Elizabeth Burke/Peter Burke, Peter Burke & Neal Caffrey
Series: White Collar Discussions [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1472945
Comments: 13
Kudos: 21





	The Fix Is In

It was a Saturday date night for Peter and Elizabeth, and, not surprisingly, Peter chose to take his wife to their favorite Italian restaurant. It was nice to kick back and relax in a place that was informal and familiar. They could touch base again after a hectic week at both of their jobs. Peter hungrily eyed the pasta menu and was about to order fettuccini alfredo, but quickly backpedaled when he saw his wife’s scowling face as she, undoubtedly, was thinking of his cholesterol level.

When everything got sorted out and they were awaiting their entrees, El casually mentioned Peter’s partner during the conversation. “I saw Neal today,” she began offhandedly.

“Where was that?” a curious husband asked just as nonchalantly.

Apparently, El had to lay some groundwork before answering the question. “I have a gala coming up hosted by a very prestigious client named Madelyn Worth. She owns a huge and quite profitable real estate company, and every year they put on a big shindig to honor the top selling agents in the company.”

“Yeah, I think I remember you mentioning that,” Peter replied.

El made a face. “Well, Madelyn is very persnickety and she is only comfortable if she is aware of every little detail that goes into the function. This past week, I actually arranged a little private food tasting experience for her, and, thankfully, it pleased her discriminating palate.”

“That sounds positive,” Peter agreed. “How does this tie into seeing Neal?”

“Well, my client decided that she wanted something unique as well as scrumptious for the desserts, so I took her to _“The Greatest Cake”_ and Neal happened to be there,” El explained. “I thought it would be a nice gesture to throw some business his way.”

“Oh, right,” Peter said after a second. “I forgot he bought that bakery a while ago.”

“Apparently, he still owns it,” El replied, “and he stops in from time to time to check on his investment. I introduced him to Madelyn and explained about her request, and Neal gallantly escorted both of us back to a little office where he began to make some sketches. Madelyn was enchanted with his rendition of different little houses made out of cake and all decorated with different colored icing. She especially loved the idea of putting little sets of gold spun-sugar keys at the bottom.”

“So, I guess that’s good,” Peter answered succinctly.

“Oh, but I didn’t tell you the best part yet,” El claimed with a conspiratorial little smile. “After we signed a contract for the order and left, Madelyn began pestering me for information about Neal. It was really weird to see a ball-buster entrepreneur suddenly acting like a silly teenager with a crush.”

“Did you tell her Neal is a felon?” Peter asked with his eyebrows raised. “That should put a damper on the lady’s enthusiasm,” he added pessimistically.

“I did mention that in passing,” El said coolly, “but it didn’t put a dent in her new obsession.”

Peter just snorted in contempt. “Those good looks get the women every time. Neal gives them the full wattage of the patented Caffrey smile and suddenly they’re putty in his hands. Level-headed women, who should know better, throw caution to the wind when it comes to a criminal with high cheekbones and turquoise eyes.”

“For your information, Hon, some women like bad boys,” El claimed. “There’s actually a show on television called _“Love After Lockup,”_ which highlights romantic attachments formed during inmates’ incarcerations.”

“So, what’s the rest of that story? What happens in _Life After Lockup?_ ” Peter asked sarcastically. “Do two mismatched lovers ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after? I’ll bet not!”

“Peter, why are you being so cynical?” El wanted to know. “Neal can be very appealingly sweet as well as devilishly handsome.”

“Apparently, a lot of women thought so,” Peter snarked. “They found his picture on some prison website and he got hundreds of groupie fan mail letters while he was in Sing Sing. I happen to know that he answered each and every one, so it’s a miracle he didn’t wind up with carpal tunnel syndrome.”

“Why do you just ‘happen to know’ that bit of trivia, Peter?” Elizabeth wanted an answer.

“Because I made it my mission to know everything about Neal,” Peter smirked.

“Even after you caught him and he wasn’t out and about getting into mischief?” El wanted clarification. “That sounds like you had your own obsession, Hon.”

“Right now I just don’t want Neal distracted from doing his job,” Peter deflected that claim. “He needs to stay focused on what’s important.”

“Having female companionship is important,” El argued. “Neal hasn’t found anyone who has stayed in his life since Kate died, so I’m not going to discourage Madelyn Worth. Whatever this evolves into is none of our business.”

Peter didn’t argue the point. Pick your battles, right? So, a scant two days later, Peter initiated another discussion with El about his CI’s possible love interest. “I did a thorough background check on that Madelyn Worth woman,” he began, “and I’m not happy with what I found out.”

“Do tell,” El said eagerly.

“Did you know that she was married before?” Peter challenged.

“So, she’s a divorcee. That’s not some big deal,” El answered.

“Not divorced—widowed,” Peter said smugly. “Her first husband was an older guy with bags of money which she just happened to inherit after his untimely death. She could even be a Black Widow type, weaving her lethal web until she callously offs her mate and gets her hands on his fortune.”

“Were there suspicions about her husband’s manner of death?” El asked skeptically.

“Well, not exactly,” Peter admitted. “He had a massive coronary on the 18th hole at a country club golf course.”

“And …” El prodded.

“And, he was seventy-eight with a documented history of cardiac issues,” Peter finally confessed.

“So, it didn’t raise any red flags,” El guessed. “Was there an autopsy performed?”

“Uh huh,” Peter said reluctantly.

“And?” El pushed again.

“The coroner said that with the guy’s horrendously clogged arteries, it was a miracle he lasted that long.”

“Peter, why are you so determined to prevent this hookup?” Elizabeth asked in a bewildered tone.

“Because she’s just not right for Neal,” Peter blurted.

“Shouldn’t Neal be the one to decide that for himself?” El said firmly.

“Please don’t encourage this Madelyn person, El. Neal needs some sweet, unjaded young woman who will keep him centered, not a bossy bitch who probably drove her husband to leaving this world because he couldn’t stand any more of her nagging,” Peter argued.

“Let me see what I can do,” El said as she hid her smile behind her hand. Even though Peter was obviously over-reacting, she was always up for a challenge. After all, El really did like Neal and wanted him to be happy.

A week later, the issue of the next matchmaker candidate for Neal was raised in the Burke bedroom. “Do you remember meeting Caroline Emerson, Peter? We used to work together when I was employed by the art gallery, and we bumped into each other at a yoga class today. She’s single—actually never been married, and she knows a lot about art. I could introduce her to Neal if we invite them both to dinner. It wouldn’t take long for them to discover how much they have in common.”

Peter sighed. “Neal probably wouldn’t appreciate you trying to fix him up, Hon. Can’t you just let sleeping dogs lie?”

“Peter, the poor guy has a two-mile radius within Manhattan. How much leeway is that for him to meet new and interesting people?”

“Can you just hold off for a bit until I get the lay of the land?” Peter asked.

Of course, Elizabeth assumed that Peter would be feeling out Neal’s attitude toward an obviously orchestrated matchup. She couldn’t have been more wrong. The very next day, Peter came home with a complete background check on Caroline Emerson.

“This one isn’t a good candidate either, El,” Peter proclaimed. “Did you know that Miss Emerson routinely maxes out her credit cards and that she still owes a ton of money for past student loans? The government is in the process of garnishing her salary every pay period.”

“How is that any of our business?” El demanded sharply.

“Because I’m thinking three steps ahead,” Peter answered like a wise oracle. “If she and Neal become an item, he may revert back to type—a knight in shining armor solving all her problems by making them go away with pilfered cash from some caper. I don’t think we should put temptation in his path, El.”

Elizabeth sighed and refused to say anything more on the subject. However, just two weeks later, she was like a moth drawn to the flame. “I had a new client come in today, Peter. Her name is Aubrey Hines and she’s really a lovely young thing who wants me to arrange a quiet little 40th anniversary party for her mom and dad. I think she’s probably in her late twenties, and she mentioned that she’s a third grade teacher in a Manhattan private school. Aubrey still lives at home with her parents and is not currently dating anyone. With some careful prodding, I found out that she plays the piano, sings in the church choir, attends weekly book club meetings, and her hobbies are crocheting and scrapbooking. I doubt there are any skeletons in her closet, and I’m contemplating introducing her to Neal.”

Peter sighed dramatically. “I love your single mindedness, Hon, but maybe Neal shouldn’t hook up with anybody while he’s on parole. That’s only going to cause more headaches for me because I’m responsible for him and his behavior until his sentence is up.”

“So, this is all about you. Is that what you’re saying, Peter?” El challenged.

The air was suddenly a bit tense, so Peter tried to make amends. “Let me look into this person before you do anything rash, Hon.” El just scowled at her husband and flounced off to bed.

Peter made a less than triumphant entrance into the Burke house the next evening. El had her hand on her hip and looked intimidating. “I don’t see any government dossier in your hand, Peter, but surely there must be some vile, evil thing lurking in Aubrey Hines’ life. Have you found out that she’s on a watch list because the CIA believes her to be a radicalized sleeper cell for terrorists?”

“No,” Peter said sheepishly. “The young woman is exactly the person you described, and therein lies the problem.”

“How so?” a confused El asked.

“Miss Hines is young, wholesome, impressionable, and, most importantly, boring as hell,” was the unexpected answer. “It would take all of ten minutes before Neal would be yawning and nodding off. He needs a sophisticated someone who is his intellectual equal—a love interest who can keep him on his toes and sharp. He needs a presence in his life who is bold enough to challenge him when he’s wrong and insist that he stay on the straight and narrow. He requires an iron hand in a kid glove who, above all else, has his future wellbeing at heart.”

“Peter, do you realize who you were just describing?” El asked with an eyebrow cocked.

“Certainly not any of the possible dating matches that you’ve presented thus far,” Peter replied with conviction.

“Well, if you can’t see the forest for the trees, Hon, then I’m not going to enlighten you,” El said with a smirk. “You’ll just have to puzzle it out yourself.”

~~~~~~~~~~

That night in bed, Peter contemplated El’s words and he couldn’t seem to come up with anyone that fit his rather stringent criteria. Eventually, his thoughts on the matter became hazier as he drifted off. During that first phase of unawareness known as REM sleep, those nebulous questions were front and center in his cerebral cortex. It was a period which some scientists have documented as fragmented fleeting moments of enhanced chemical activity in the brain that foster creative thinking and problem solving. That is when we dream, possibly a way of acting out fanciful dilemmas like a drama on a stage behind our closed eyelids. It is a time when hopes, fears, regrets, and aspirations have complete and uninhibited free rein in our psyches. Peter’s REM cycles were no different.

During those subconscious moments, Peter was very aware of Neal by his side. The con man was exactly where he should be and where he should always stay. Peter saw his dream self reach an arm around the young man’s shoulders and pull him into a protective embrace, and he watched in fascination as his own hand began stroking soft circles between Neal’s shoulder blades and then slide sinuously even lower below his waist. Peter felt the warmth of Neal’s body as it molded to his, and he then felt the stirrings in his groin. Peter’s need seemed overwhelming—a driving desire to dominate, to protect, to titillate, to pleasure, and, ultimately, to win release from aroused, pent up sexual tension.

It seemed but a split second later that both he and his CI were naked on a soft surface, and Peter was allowed to visualize the perfection that he always knew was hidden under those sharp vintage suits. Everyone of Peter’s senses seemed raw and hyperalert as he used his eyes, hands, and tongue to explore the forbidden territory of Neal’s body. He heard the young man’s sensuous moans of pleasure as Peter played him like a violin and had him delirious and panting with desire. Ultimately, a by-the-book FBI agent shook off his staid mantle of professionalism and claimed his hard-bodied criminal in the most primal way, and Neal was loving the sweet torture. Everything reached a crescendo of ecstasy, and it was then that Peter heard himself cry out Neal’s name as he plummeted off a high pinnacle during his climax.

Just as suddenly, he was wrenched from his reverie by small hands shaking his shoulder, and Peter turned to see El hovering by his side. She reached a hand up to turn on the bedside lamp and then pulled down the blanket and sheet covering her husband. His pajama bottoms were wet and sticky, an obvious telltale remnant of his dream fantasy.

“Well I guess you managed to find a new love interest for Neal,” she said with a wicked little smile. “Now I suppose you’ll just have to figure out a way to make it real.”


End file.
